An office with a desk and a chair on one side and two chairs on the other. The room is spacious, the stone walls warmed with tapestries depicting the desert. A window looks out over the courtyard and practice fields.

Thedor 5, 229.

Watching as their guests leave, Altair once more reaches for his glass of wine, looking a little lost in thought at the moment. Taking a sip from his wine, as he looks to his sister, but he keeps quiet for the moment.

Nima sits back down once the others are gone and looks to her brother. "Mother is ill," she confesses softly. "It must be dire for father to send for us. Unless you would like to stay. I could take Dastan."

"Ill?" Altair asks after a few moments of pause, before he lets out a bit of a sigh. "It must be dire, for father to do so, that is true." A brief pause, before he sighs, "And since he would not have done it if it was not so, we should all go." A brief pause, as he looks to the doors again. "We who are fortunate enough to do so…"

Nima allows her gaze to flicker towards the door and gives a solemn nod to her brother. "I wish we could help them. They wish for an alliance, and I see the way you watch her… she lacks hope and lacking hope leads to despair. I wish they could come with us."

Altair raises an eyebrow a little as he hears his sister's words. "The way I watch her, Nima?" It's spoken a bit softly, before he takes another sip of his wine, draining the glass. "I wish so as well. They came here trying to stop war, but then this…" A brief pause, as he lets out a sigh. "And not even being afforded the courtesy of their titles." A brief pause, before he adds, "If it is true, and Jadda has formed an alliance with Laniveer…"

"I heard… and we are neighbors with Jadda and Laniveer is nearby as well. We should perhaps rethink our position. Perhaps it is a good thing that we are going home… so that we will not be captured as well since we have had a previous alliance, and we can speak with father about his intentions and ideas in regards to the sudden changes." Nima says softly.

Altair nods a little as he hears that. "Sounds like something it would be very wise to speak with father about. And there are times I worry that we could be captured here for not scowling when we look at them, or something like that." Another brief pause, as he pours himself some more wine. "I really wish we could bring them with us."

Nima contemplates that. "It would burn the Mobrin and sever all hope of alliances in the future." There is a pause as she finishes her wine. "Though I wish we could as well. They are lost here, alone."

"There is that," Altair replies, letting out a bit of a sigh now. "Thinking about it makes me feel a bit lost as well," he offers, as he takes a long sip from his glass now. "But do not say that it would sever all hope of alliances. Who knows what the future will bring, after all." A thoughtful look around the room again, and he drains this glass as well. "Anyway. We will not be able to leave until morning, right? I should get some sleep, hopefully some rest will make things seem less dark in the future." A brief pause, before he adds, "Do you think you would be able to write another poem for me, Nima? One about not losing hope, that I could leave for the Princess." Using the real title of Rowena now that there are nobody else present.

"Of course it would sever the option of alliances, were we to spirit the Laniveeri away with us to Kundari. We would never have the choice with Mobrin, we would be committing treason to Mobrin." Nima has finished her wine and she turns her smile up as he asks. "Of course, my dear brother. I would do that for you. It will be ready for you by morning." She rises. "I will go rest now, goodnight."

Altair smiles as he hears that. "Thank you." Going silent again as he gets to his feet as well. "Good night."